


Miss Iruma's Demon Maid

by KomaruNaegi



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Blood, Crack Pairing, F/F, I kept it to a minimum, I swear it's innocent okay, It's explained and I'm very sorry, Menstruation, No Spoilers, Period blood, but i have... a few ideas for this one, but not too much cause it's, hooo boy, i am not fuckin ready to do this, i don't trust myself to do a multi-chapter fic, this is based on two things, those things being a tumblr post and kobayashi-san chi no maid dragon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-22 03:18:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9580223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KomaruNaegi/pseuds/KomaruNaegi
Summary: Miu Iruma isn't sure what to think when an intruder shows up at her house, in front of her bathroom door, no less. Who is she? Why's she wearing her hair in such a stupid way?And what's she saying about a blood sacrifice?





	1. Of all the Reasons You Could Be Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK THIS IS GOING TO BE WEIRD BUT... period blood and pads are in this. I SWEAR ON MY LIFE this is the only chapter they show up and it is as minimal as possible... this is based on a tumblr post and I don't wanna spoil what happens BUT I cannot find said post...
> 
> God forgive me

“If I wake up tomorrow and it looks like I got murdered, she’s payin’. I ain’t givin’ shit,” the inventor curses, glaring at herself in the mirror as she washes her hands.

It was evident that she was ticked off, and within reason, or so she thought. Her mom bought her the wrong pads. Not only were they this off-brand knock off of the brand she liked, they also were wingless. _How the fuck do people survive without wings?_

She scoffed audibly, her bangs fluttering as she did so. She needed to get a haircut. While she did trust herself with electrical machinery, she didn’t trust herself to cut her own hair. How would people react if Iruma Miu, the prettiest girl in school, came in one day with shitty-looking hair? Poorly, probably.

Speaking of the pads, they had this really weird symbol on them, in a lavender purple. Iruma couldn’t care less about the color, but she does recall the symbol looking all kinds of weird. Like some sorta shit her classmate would draw… What was her name? Amanda? She wasn’t Japanese, whatever she was. Talkin’ like God was gonna save her of all her problems. Whatever.

Maybe that other weird guy in her class would know about it. Iruma didn’t bother calling people by their actual names, because that’s an honor only beautiful people like herself deserved. What had she concocted for that kid? Ah, that’s right. Shineguuji! That fucker was a weird one. She swears she’s seen his hair move. Didn’t he almost tie up that bug dude once with rope or whatever? Not her problem. But demonic sigils seemed to be right up that guy’s avenue.

She sighed again, remembering that she was still in the bathroom. She clapped, and the sink shut off by itself. If people could shut off the lights by clapping, why not do the same with sinks? And so she made a sink for herself that did just that. It wasn’t anything special, but people treated it like it was _the shit_ , and now all the hoity-toity billionaires have clapping sinks. The inventor of clapping sinks doesn’t deserve to be PMSing so horribly right now.

Putting on her gloves, she reached towards the doorknob with her eyes closed. As she did so, she let out a yawn, closing her eyes as she flung the barricade open. She went to take a step forward, only to bump into someone.

“Oi, d’ya mind?” Iruma barked, staring at whoever the fuck decided to block _her_ way.

In front of her were a pair of chartreuse eyes. At least, that’s what she thought, since the intruder had these really long gray bangs that covered up half her face. That’s inconvenient as fuck. Why would you wanna stare at your hair all day long? Especially if it’s in a bob. God, she needed some pointers.

“Are you the one who prepared the sacrifice?” the woman in front of her asked, in a tone so cold and serious it almost made Iruma afraid. _Almost._

 _“Sacrifice?”_ the inventor questions, looking at the other with a quizzical gaze. “What kinda sacrifice are ya talkin’ about?”

“The blood sacrifice that was just performed in your bathroom,” the other states casually.

At this, Iruma starts to laugh. Her laughter goes from chuckles to full-out howling in the matter of a few seconds, and she’s holding her stomach because the way she said that so cluelessly has gotta be the funniest fuckin’ thing she’s seen in a _long_ time.

“Do you find blood sacrifices funny, mistress?” the other asks.

“Pfffbt- _Mistress?"_  Iruma snorts, still not having pulled herself together completely. She lets out a drawn out sigh, finally looking back up at her.

“Yes, you did summon me, no?”

“No, I didn’t summon shit!” Iruma sneers, hand now on her hip as she looks the other in the eye. “How’d you even get in here, the door’s locked.”

“I opened up a portal in the ceiling of this room and then stepped through it. It was the simplest way to get in, since your door was locked. Humans can’t answer the signal bell when they are in private.”

“You mean doorbell, idiot,” she snarls, looking at her. “What the hell are you cosplaying? Shirogay’s gotta know some series about portal summonin’ intruders…”

“Cosplay? You mean to dress up as a fictional character, correct? I can assure you that I am real, even if we are of different species and origin.”

“Different species? What a fuckin' card you are,” the other mutters, clearly annoyed. “Now could ya please leave? I don’t wanna have to call the cops on some cosplaying demon-maid.”

“I may be a demon, but I would advise not revealing that to others,” the gray-haired female stated. “I know that a contractor would know of my species, but other humans are frightened by us. It usually ends in death, and I would rather avoid killing unless asked.”

“Holy shit, a demon?!?” Iruma marvels, looking genuinely surprised. She soon turns annoyed, however. “I get that you’re tryin’ to be in character or whatever, but unless it involves money, I ain’t got the time, okay? So run back to Kanto and catch all the Pokemon without me, okay?” she groans, finally pushing the other to the side and leaving the bathroom. She jumps on her bed, flopping against it with her face squished in her pillows.

“Do you wish for money? I can arrange that, mistress,” the other says, still in the same spot, but now turned in her direction.

“Really?” Iruma asks, a curiosity to her voice, “And how’re ya gonna do that?”

“Stealing, obviously,” the other answers.

“You can’t just _steal money from people_ , idiot.”

“I can. I can steal any and all things with a ‘snap of my fingers’, as you call it,” the self-proclaimed ‘demon’ affirms.

“Oh yeah? Steal somethin’ right now with your demon magic. _I dare ya_ ,” the inventor gloats, turning her attention to the cell phone on her nightside table, grabbing it with her exposed fingers.

The demon, her own fingers gloved, clasps her hands as she closes her visible eye, and presumably the one that isn’t visible as well. She then releases them, her hands now about a foot apart as a fiery purple energy is conjured between them. It hisses and sparks violently, spiraling in puffs as it moves. Curious of the source of the noise, Iruma turns her head in the demon’s direction, only to immediately regret it. Petrified, she pulls her covers up over her head, only to lower them so that she can look at whatever’s going on between the maid’s hands.

A final sear of energy releases a chilling cry, as the fire begins to slowly cease. The room, which had become darker during the sequence, begins to fill with light again. As the remaining energy disperses, a shape is formed.

In the end, a small little roll is in her hands, sealed by a hot pink wrapping.

“W-Whatzzat? A t-tootsie roll?” Iruma asks from under her improvised safety blanket.

“Please do not be afraid, my energy cannot harm you,” the other mumbles. She begins unwrapping the parcel delicately. “This is the contract you signed to summon me.”

With a gloved hand, she reveals a white thing, that’s been daintily rolled up. She begins unrolling it, only-

“EWEWEWEWEW! PUT THAT BACK IN THE TRASH, YA FUCKIN PERV!” Iruma screams, taking one hand and pointing it accusingly at the other, whilst holding up the bedsheets in her right hand.

“I appreciate your efforts to discard of the contract, but the rules say I must keep it. The sigil on it is indeed the one used to summon one of my rank,” she says, holding up the bloody period pad and pointing to the purple lavender logo underneath the blood.

“DO YOU HAVE NO FUCKIN DECENCY?” Iruma barks back. “I DIDN’T SUMMON YOU, I’M ON MY PERIOD! OF COURSE I’M GONNA BLEED!”

“Period? I have never heard of such a thing,” the other replies.

“Y-You really are a demon...” the inventor stammers, retreating under the covers.

“Yes, I am,” she reaffirms, pocketing the ‘contract’ and walking over to the other. “But I’ve no intentions to hurt you.”

She sticks out a hand, and proceeds to unglove it. Her skin is pale, and there’s not a single wrinkle in it. Her nails are black and rounded.

Iruma shimmies to the other side of the bed in fear.

“It is polite to greet another with a handshake, is it not?” the demon asks, still polite as ever.

Ungloving her own hand and shaking violently, Iruma sticks her right hand out to the demon. The demon firmly grasps it. Her hand is soft.

“Kirumi Toujou. Kirumi is fine, however. Sixteen years of age, according to the human age system. And you are?”

“M-Miu Iruma, s-sixteen,” she replies, letting go of the other’s hand as fast as possible.

Toujou puts on her glove again, smiling. She checks Iruma’s bedside clock.

“It is getting late, you should sleep.”

“N-Not until you go away,” Iruma grumbles. Her heart's still racing as she turns over, trying to get comfortable.

“I cannot do that, Iruma-san,” the other states. “I may only return to my realm when your wish is fulfilled.”

“I don’t care. I’m going to bed. Get out.”

“I cannot leave your side, mistress,” the other restates calmly. “I shall stay here with you until you wake. Perhaps you could explain to me what a ‘period’ is when you regain consciousness?”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. G’night,” the other mumbles, convinced this is a dream. Maybe if she sleeps in the dream, she’ll move onto one where she’s rich and famous, and not one where she accidentally summons a demon with her period blood.

“Alright. Thank you,” Toujou murmurs, sitting down on the next to the opposite side of the bed.

There was some sort of formality one of the other contractors had her say before they went to sleep. What was that again?

Oh, right.

“I love you,” she mutters like a thank you, as she decides to fall asleep herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically prompt was "what if the cute symbols in period pads are demon summoning sigils because i like pretending i can summon demons" and
> 
> y e a h
> 
> if u enjoyed than idk what to say bc this is a crack ship


	2. Panic Attacks and Periods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iruma explains periods to Toujou. It's about as fun as it sounds.

_Beep beep! Beep beep!_

Kirumi Toujou blinked her eyes in confusion, mildly startled. Where was she again?

Oh, that’s right. The previous day, she’d gotten contracted by a human for the fifth time. Finally, she had thought at the moment, smirking slightly. She needed to fulfil the requests of five humans in order to move up to the final rank in hell. She had remembered the moment the task was first given to her...

“Humans? You mean those earth creatures with appearances mirroring our own?”

“Yep! Toujou-chan’s so smart!” her leader giggled, sipping a carbonated drink as he shimmied into a more comfortable position in the plush chair he sat in.

“Ouma-sama…” the lower demon muttered, looking up at hell’s ruler with a pointed gaze, “For what reason should we interact with them?”

“Huuuuuh? When did I say we?” the other mused playfully, looking at the logo on his purple can of soda.

“I am to go alone?” Toujou asked.

“Yep, yep!”

Raising a gloved finger to her chin, the female looked to the side. She was called here for a final task of sorts - a quest that would lead her to be the highest-ranking consort in Satan’s army. Of course, his name wasn’t Satan, but rather Ouma - Ouma thought the name the humans gave him was cute, so he allowed his residents to call him as such.

“I want you to fill the requests of five humans, okay?” Ouma instructed. Toujou brought her green eyes to his violet ones, her attention now piqued.

“Five? Which five humans would you like?”

“Juuuust whatever ones summon you, of course!” the other snickered, now opting to rest his hands behind his head as some sort of pillow.

“They can summon you by going _beep beep, beep beep!_ ”

Toujou stood up as the alarm continued, brushing the dust that had accumulated on her skirt off. She must have fallen asleep again after first hearing the alarm. It was a thing she’d seen happen once or twice with her previous contractors.

Sensing that the sound was behind her, the maid turned. As expected, a pink digital clock rested behind her, the time marked as 5:58 A.M.

“Huaaaaaaaeuh,” the inventor groaned, taking in the first signs of wakefulness. The sheets rustled beneath her as she fought the sensation, wishing she could sleep more.

Ignoring the other, Toujou picked the contraption up in her hands. She turned it so that the back faced her, examining the buttons.

“Hours… Minutes… Twenty-four hour time…” the demon muttered, trying to get a grasp of how the clock worked.

“Ngaaaaaah,” Iruma hissed, irritated at the sound. She knew she had to get up, could the damn thing just stop buzzing? She mentally noted the need to put a voice recognition system on that thing.

Rolling over, she went to slam her hand on the clock. That’s how it worked - a firm slam and the button on the clock’s underside would be pressed, finally stopping its incessant beeping.

Aiming to do so, the girl rolled over, swatting her left hand in the clock’s direction. However, Despite her fingers making contact with her night table, she wasn’t able to find the clock.

“Wheeeeere… is… it…” she whined, continuing her relentless swatting, gradually slamming harder and harder against the wooden piece of furniture beside her bed. Fearing that she could hurt her hand if she continued, the demon clenched her wrist.

“Heeeeeeeh?” a still sleepy Iruma questioned, finally fluttering her eyes open. She looked at the demon, noting her presence.

“Ohhh… Mornin’, Kill me…” the inventor mumbled, letting out a yawn.

She then fluttered her eyes again.

“Wait, it’s you!” she shrieked, struggling out of the maid’s grasp. She fetched her alarm clock, turning it over and pressing the off button frantically. She suddenly dropped it, only for the other to catch it right before it made contact with the floor.

“Again, mistress, Kirumi is fine,” the other corrected her, not quite fond of the inventor’s nickname.

“HYAAAAA!” Iruma shrieked, fumbling out of bed. Her face met the ground almost instantaneously. With a low moan and a hand to her back, she stood with a set of shaky feet.

With the way she was currently shaking, it was hard to appear even the slightest bit intimidating. Still, the inventor tried her best to put up a fighting stance from the opposite side of the room.

“Y-Y-You’re the d-demon from my dream last night!” the blue eyed girl stammered, pointing an accusatory finger at Toujou. The other cocked her head to the side.

“Last night? That was not a dream, Iruma-san. You contracted me last night in your bathroom, and then proceeded to discard of said contract in your wastebasket,” Toujou re-explained, looking at her with a bemused glance.

“Wakeupwakeupwakeup!” the inventor yelled in a moment of desperation, pinching against the surface of her cheeks. It appeared that she was… crying? She was at least sweating, that was for sure. Frantically, she went from pinching to scratching.

Frustrated, she took her hands from her face. A small bit of blood rested on her fingernails.

“N-N-No way…” Iruma muttered softly. “A-Am I going insane?! A-Are they gonna take me to therapy…? I-I don’t wanna go to therapy- I’ll give you money- I-”

Kirumi kneeled in front of the other, grabbing her shoulders. She bore into the other, as she shook violently under her.

“Mistress…” Toujou relented, her expression melting to a pained smile.

With watery blue eyes, Iruma stared back, only responding in petrified shakes.

The demon took one hand off of Iruma, putting it to her chest. “As I’ve said, I have no intention of hurting you. In many ways, I’m the same as you are. And I can promise I’ll be out of your life soon.”

The inventor sniffled and nodded.

“For now… Just imagine me as a friend of yours. It’s 5:59 in the morning… do you have school?’ she asked. Iruma let out a shaky breath.

“Y-Yeah. It’s Friday.”

“Then I shall accompany you.”

“But you don’t go to my school?” Iruma replied in a tone that meant to be a statement, but came out as a question.

“It’s fine. I usually just say that I am a cousin who is rooming with you since my parents are on a business trip. Nothing difficult,” the demon muttered. She poked Iruma’s breast with a singular finger in a sort of mocking way.

“HEY,” Iruma snarled, pushing the other off of her. “that’s MY titty you’re touchin’. You can’t go touchin’ these babies like you please, pervert.”

“Titties?” Toujou questioned, tilting her head. She proceeded to begin unbuttoning her shirt, again lacking a sense of shame or reservation. “You mean these?” she clarified, poking at her now-exposed breasts.

Iruma bended her elbow and looked away. “Y-You slut! Yes, that’s what I mean! Do you have no fuckin’ common sense?!”

“So those words are synonymous…” the demon murmured, buttoning her shirt back up.

“Your fashion sense fuckin’ sucks, Kill me,” Iruma whined. She was still in her uniform, since she never bothered changing last night. She stomped over to the closet, pulling out a copy of what she was currently wearing. “Can’t ya wear somethin’ other than white? Also, that scarf. Fuckin’ gross.”

It was true that she was dressed rather… oddly. A long, white, long-sleeved shirt, double-breasted and kept together with multiple hooks. There were several colored buttons below the chest as well, and an a-line skirt that went to her knees completed the look, her calves concealed by purple socks, and black ballet flats. Her outfit was tattered in many places, including the neckline, which was hidden by the aforementioned black-and-white checkerboard scarf.

“Ah, this is what Ouma-sama designated as my uniform, but I can change.”

“Who the fuck is Ouma?” Iruma inquired, looking back at her. “Sounds like a twink.”

Toujou thought to herself. “I guess he is.”

“You know what the word twink means, but not the word titty?” the other whined. Color her impressed.

“Yes… he’s what you call ‘Satan.’”

Iruma chuckled to herself. “You make him out to be like a limp dick.”

Toujou ignored the clearly lewd comment, checking the time yet again.

“Now get in the bathroom, and do your fancy demon shit or whatever and change your clothes into somethin’ that doesn’t look so stupid. I don’t need your slutty ass eyeing me up.”

“As you wish, mistress,” she agreed, closing the door over gently.

“AN’ STOP CALLING ME MISTRESS!”

Toujou sighed, looking at herself in the mirror. There was a highly mechanical toothbrush that was plugged into the wall, and it appeared to be at full charge. She examined it, pressing a button.

_Good morning, everyone! Let’s play all day, in the sun! Together we’re the best of friends!_

_I love you, you love me! We’re a happy family! Toge-_

Toujou shut the toothbrush off.

She found a small porcelain dish, overflowing with hairties, bobby pins, necklaces, and more. She had an urge to fix it up, but doing so could delay the other for school, so she begrudgingly left it as is, only taking a pin or two to pin back her bangs.

What to wear…

She looked herself over, not thinking of anything in particular. What do girls wear to school? Does her school have a school uniform?

She thought back to the previous night. What had she called her again? “Demon maid?”

Surrounding herself in a purplish fire, she thought of what a maid might look like. A cute headdress, a proper button-up shirt… Maybe a black jumper skirt? A pretty pattern too… like a spiderweb. She’d seen one once, admiring it from a distance as she walked her contractor home. It was intricate, and had a sense of beauty she hadn’t seen back home.

“EY, KILL ME, I GOT MA-”

The inventor burst through the door. Her eyes widened, large and shocked as she blinked at Toujou’s choice of outfit. It was hard to admit, but man, maid outfits were kinda cute… was that gothic lolita? There’s gotta be a petticoat under there… “ _Holy shit,_ ” she allowed herself to whisper, reeling herself into reality.

“Iruma-san? Is something the matter?”

Iruma slapped her hand on the granite countertop, shoving Toujou over with her body. She scowled at her bedhead, grabbing at a dirty hairbrush that rested by the sink’s faucet. She angrily combed out her hair, some of it collecting on the brush due to her force.

“Irum-”

“I just can’t believe ya went all out with the maid thing,” Iruma mumbled, not taking her eyes off herself.

“Well, you called me by such a name last night. Does this outfit not fit your taste?” Toujou questioned.

Iruma swiped another helping of blush on her, and then turned to Toujou. Grunting, she eyed the other up and down, taking in every inch of what she wore.

“Yer fine.”

With a nod, Toujou went to step out of the bathroom, only to be stopped by the other. She had taken a new brush in her hand, and wiped a bit of blush on the demon’s cheeks.

“Ya gotta look good for school. What time izit again?” the inventor whined.

Toujou looked out the door which had been left open. “6:03, Iruma-san.”

“Hmph,” the other grunted, displeased. “I gotta be outta here by 6:30 if I wanna make it on time. Saishuu ain’t right around the corner. Can ya make breakfast?”

“Certainly. It would be my honor.”

“Ya really are a maid, aren’t cha?” the inventor giggled, ruffling a hand in the other’s gray locks.

“Thank you, Iruma-san.”

“Now go get some toast, ya gay.”

“As you wish.”

And with another fiery burst of purple energy, she was gone.

* * *

The sky above them was gray, blanketed by clouds. It was the kind of weather that you couldn’t help but feel lousy during. It was as if the sky was blushing and about to cry, and in your conscience you couldn’t help but feel bad for it. Nonetheless, Miu Iruma and Kirumi Toujou trudged onward, sights set towards Saishuu Gakuen.

Toujou turned towards her contractor, who was angrily chomping down on her third slice of buttered white bread today. A scowl on her face, she looked forward, not regarding the other in the slightest. Toujou turned her gaze to the greenery and houses around her, not noting anything out of place. Iruma had a hard step, whilst hers were soft, precise, and gentle.

The inventor wiped her mouth with her sleeve, spitting on the ground indignantly. She chomped down the last bite of toast, burping loudly with no regard of her manners. Toujou blinked - never had someone who summoned her been so… ostentatious with their behavior.

Ah, that was right, Toujou thought. She was going to ask Iruma about periods. Apparently she had been summoned through an occurrence known as a “period,” so she was curious as to what they were, and why her previous four contractors hadn’t mentioned them.

“Iruma-”

“What,” the other snarled, cutting her off. Her gaze was sharp as a blade, and it appeared that she was ticked off.

“What is a period? You said that you would explain them to me.”

“I did?” the strawberry blonde complained, only to get a small nod from the other. With an eye roll, she sighed, looking out at the sidewalk in front of her.

“So, periods are this hellhole of a thing that happens to human gals. There’s these scumbags called ovaries or whatever in our reproductive systems, ya hear?”

“Only to girls? Why not men?” Toujou asked, concerned.

“I don’t fuckin know. Anyways, when ya get like, thirteen years old or somethin’ like that, your body decides it’s ready for babies, for some reason.”

Toujou taps her chin. “I don’t think a human of that age would have the mental maturity required to mother a child…”

“Exactly. So, despite that, our bodies are like, ‘Yeah! Let’s have a fuckin’ baby!’ so they go get ready to have a baby. And they make lotsa eggs. Those’re like, uh, the cells that get fertawhatevered? Yeah. Those.”

Toujou nods, listening intently.

“And ya body goes on thinkin’ yer gonna have sex, so it builds up this wall or whatever so it can foster this fertilized - that’s what it’s called - egg into a whole damn baby.”

“Then where does the-”

“I’M GETTIN’ TO THAT.”

“My apologies.”

“‘N so, it goes on makin’ this whole fuckin’ home for this theoretical child or whatever. But then ya don’t have sex. So it like made a whole tent for someone who ain’t even goin’ campin’. And so it sheds. Blood, tissue, ‘n all. It just comes outta ya, all cluster-y and gross. And ya keep bleedin’ for a whole week.”

“So that is why the blood felt dead…”

“And the whole thing happens every damn month, unless ya go and get yerself pregnant. And that’s all there is to it.”

Toujou nods, walking forward, only to be blocked by the arm of the other.

“JESUS, Kill me. Ya almost walked into traffic.”

Toujou blinks, looking ahead of her. It was true, she almost crossed on a red light. She had become so engrossed in the other’s speech that she had stopped paying attention to what was right in front of her.

“Thank you for stopping me, Iruma-san. I appreciate your concern for me.”

“Like I care about ya,” the other scoffed, hands now on her hips. She spit to the ground again. “Now get a move on, the light’s green. Only three more blocks.”

The two arrive at school without further conversation or hassle. Iruma heads to her shoe locker, exchanging her boots for the school-mandated clodhoppers. Toujou asks if she should do the same, only for the other to groan again. “You just transferred, how the fuck would ya already have a shoe locker?” And so the two went to Iruma’s homeroom.

“There’s a bunch a new staff ‘ere. They all transferred from some place over yonder that calls itself Hope’s Peak Academy. Apparently some fucko blew up their gymnasium, so all the staff came over here so they could get away from ‘im. Yukizome’s our teach - she’s real nice ‘n shit. She likes cleanin’.”

Toujou nods, and follows the inventor upstairs to homeroom. The door’s closed over, but she can hear murmurs of chatter from inside.

“GOOD MORNING SLUTS,” Iruma yells, slamming the door open. Nobody acknowledges her.

“W-What? Shouldn’t you give your beautiful classmate your attention?” she then stammered, faltering as she went to a more timid persona.

“Please excuse her…” the maid muttered quietly, stepping into the room beside her. Unlike Iruma, who wanted attention and did not garter it, Toujou managed to get all eyes on her unintentionally.

“And you are?” Shinguuji spoke after a slight period of silence, looking at Toujou with a pointed gaze.

“Ah, my apologies. Toujou Kirumi, but please don’t feel the need to refer to me formally. I am Iruma-san’s cousin, who is to stay with her since my parents are on a business trip. I am sorry for no previous notice - I was hoping I could join your class without too much difficulty.”

A blue-haired girl zooms up to her with wicked speed.

“Hello, Toujou-san! My name is Shirogane Tsumugi! Please be my friend!”

Shirogane introduces herself jubilantly, taking the demon’s gloved hand in a forceful grip.

School sure is… something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING THIS IN FOREVER...
> 
> Feel free to suggest prompts/ideas! I kinda know what I want for the next few chapters? But yeah ideas are gucci (this chapter was gonna be longer but I just said "fuck it")
> 
> Trust me when I say periods won't ever be brought up again. At least, not in this detail.


End file.
